


loving is my least favorite pastime

by orphan_account



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, ben is making a big mistake, joe is still sad, v sad i’m so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-22 21:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: tasteful words spoken by tasteless tongue sounded like sweet summer rain in joe’s ears when ben kissed him at rami’s 30th birthday party, lips rough like cracked tree bark.lowercase intended.back on my shit againif you listen to “night fever” by the bee gees while reading this, it makes it 10x less sad





	loving is my least favorite pastime

**Author's Note:**

> i dunno why i chose seattle but i did
> 
> also, for those that don’t know, a “fag”, in this fic, is a cigarette, not an actual person. thank you.

joe felt the bottom of ben’s car rumble beneath his feet as they drove across the empty streets of seattle, tommy james and the shondells playing quietly in the background. joe in the back, ben up front, and olivia, ben’s girlfriend, in the passenger’s seat.

 now sprawled out across the beer-stained backseats with his head resting on one of ben’s old t-shirts for support, joe let his tired eyes wander aimlessly around the car.

a tube of maybelline lipstick, three condom wrappers and an empty box of lucky strikes underneath the driver’s seat.

he remembers pulling the last fag out of that box, sticking it in between his baby pink lips and just holding it there. 

there was no need to light it, or smoke it, for that matter. just the feeling of having _something_ that belonged to ben pressed against his lips was enough. knowing that ben would _acknowledge_ the missing cigarette was enough. that ben would acknowledge  _ him _ .

the box reminded him of rough nights with ben, awkward conversations shared between the two of them at ungodly hours while rami and gwilym were either out on the town or asleep.

 

 _“i kissed you in a dream, once. you ran away.” joe explained, taking a small sip of his beer._  

_ ben chuckled. _

_ “accurate.” the blonde replied._

_so easily. so passive about it._  

_joe only hummed in response, tugging at the frayed hem of his green jumper, one-sided want consuming his heart and pushing all thoughts of ben down the drain. _

_ washed him out of the hotel bed sheets like blood stains._

 

“do you think he’s asleep?” olivia asked, resting her hand on ben’s inner thigh as he drove.

ben frowned, turning his attention towards his best friend.

joe immediately shut his eyes, trying his absolute hardest to steady his breathing. faux-sleep always got him through situations like this. 

he let out a small groan, burying his nose in the soft fabric of ben’s shirt.

ben’s scent was dizzying, deafening, even — clogging joe’s throat and burning his eyes like rose-tinted inert gas.

 with a small smirk, ben let out a quiet _finally,_ before parking his car on the side of the road.

few words are shared between the couple as they grab at each other, pulling at zippers and tugging at jeans.

 

_ben mindlessly ran his fingers through joe’s damp, ginger curls, eyes glued to the hotel television screen._

_joe wanted to say something. thank him, maybe? lace his dainty, trembling fingers with ben’s or pepper a few kisses across his exposed torso?_

_he wanted to stay like this for awhile. just the two of them, no conversations._ _talking made things difficult and far too uncomfortable for joe’s liking._

 

now he just wants to sleep. block out all the noise, take his brain to the dry-cleaners and get it washed and bleached and ironed out. but, alas, joe was more awake than ever.

 

 _tasteful words spoken by tasteless tongue_ _sounded like sweet summer rain in joe’s ears when ben kissed him at a rami’s 30th birthday party, lips rough like cracked tree bark._

  _splinter after splinter,_

_ iron on his tongue._

  _ **sweet like rotten green apples.** _

_joe pushed into the kiss, desperately clawing at ben’s back and running his hands all over his body, and he was breathing ben. seeing ben, thinking ben, everything was ben, ben, ben._

_and then it stopped._

_ben was out the door in a matter of seconds, leaving joe with tear-stained cheeks and swollen, cherry rouge lips._

 

 the memory hits him like a stomachache, burns the back of his throat like vomit.

biting back tears as he watches ben run his fingers all over olivia’s perfect skin, kiss her petal-soft lips and drag his teeth across her moon-lit neck.

 it was torturous nights like these that made joe ache from the inside out, the inevitable unavailability of ben’s affections eating away at his heart.

joe mazzello has died about a thousand times in this car, simply poisoned by the ghastly thought of loving ben jones.

and he hears screams. screams that aren’t his.

or at least they weren’t last time he checked.

**Author's Note:**

> yikes. this was bad. leave feedback. ♥︎


End file.
